


Fragrance

by pinky_heaven19



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 13:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinky_heaven19/pseuds/pinky_heaven19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson finds himself unusually attracted to Sherlock after he puts on some cologne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragrance

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! Just so you know, English is not my first language and I don't have a beta, so there might be some mistakes, please let me know about them, OK? It's my first attempt of writing fanfiction in the Sherlock fandom, so feedback is always appreciated!

John rolled his eyes for the third time in nearly 15 minutes. Sherlock was sighing in that particular way of his, which indicated he was _exceptionally_ bored. John tried his best to ignore that obvious call for his attention and continued on walking the crowded hallways of the shopping centre. 

\-- I'm still puzzled as to why we're doing this - Sherlock said next to him. 

\-- Because it's not polite to show up at a birthday party empty handed.

\-- But why do _I_ have to endure this? - the taller man said, waving his hands around them, looking at the people that passed by them. John stopped in front of the window of a clothes store thinking he might find something for Molly there. He knew Sherlock didn't like crowded places much - too much information to be absorbed at once seemed to be the issue there - and that was exactly why he had brought Sherlock along. It was a twisted sort of punishment.

\-- If you had told me about the party when she first invited us, I could have picked up a present by myself beforehand, but now we don't have much time left - John explained for the second time. Sherlock never needed second explanations of anything, so John was sure he was doing that just to piss him off. 

Molly had invited them to her birthday party a week ago, but of course Sherlock had disregarded the information as useless to solving cases and had deleted that from his brain. John learned about it by accident, when he had gone to St. Bart’s that morning and Molly had talked to them.

'You are both coming tonight, aren't you?' - she had asked, gleefully.  
John had looked at Sherlock, who was completely focused on the microscope in front of him, and back to Molly.

'Sure, we'll be there' - he had agreed, with no clue to what he was actually agreeing with. Molly looked happy, though, so he thought it was something that didn't have full potential of getting him killed. When it came to Sherlock and his odd little circle of friends, one could never be sure.

He ended up discovering what his plans for the night were from Lestrade; not only Sherlock didn't remember, he didn't even make an effort to remember it, so focused he was on his experiment, whatever it was. 

It felt good dragging him to help pick up a present, such an ordinary task, after his particularly annoying behavior.

They were on their way to the party and John still didn't know what to get her.

\-- What do you think she would like? - he asked Sherlock, still looking at the clothes in the window before them.

\-- I don't recall her talking about any specific item that she might need. She stopped wearing lipstick, perhaps she needs a new one.

Oh, no. John had no idea how to shop for make up, so that was out of the question. 

\-- Not something she _needs_ , something she _likes_.

\-- Why would we give her something she doesn't need? - Sherlock asked, looking actually puzzled now.

It was John's turn to sigh. This was going to take forever. He knew Sherlock didn't care about birthdays. 'What is it supposed to celebrate? That you've survived another year?' - he would say. John had no idea when Sherlock's birthday was; he had asked him once, but the reply was that the Holmes didn't celebrate birthdays. Mycroft wasn't of any help either, only grinning in that infuriating way of his. John knew Mycroft had the wrong idea about the two of them, and didn't want to fuel him any further, so he just shrugged and let the subject drop. 

It was no surprise that Sherlock had completely disregarded his birthday a few months ago. John was happily greeted by his family, Mrs. Hudson, Molly, Lestrade and a couple of his old pals that weren't much in his life nowadays. Hell, even Anderson had given his regards, and he really _was_ congratulating him for surviving living with Sherlock for so long now. 

Sherlock only acknowledged that it was a special date for John only two days later, when he saw the leftovers of the cake Mrs. Hudson had baked for him thrown in the trash. He had looked guilty enough, though.

\-- I apologize, John. As friends, it was my obligation to notice dates like that. 

Even though an apology was something that rarely came from Sherlock, John felt even worse. He hated the idea that Sherlock thought about things concerning them as an obligation. 

John knew he shouldn't be this affected by the way Sherlock acted towards their friendship. Trying to analyze his feelings only made him miserable. The way he felt was his own fault. He should have stopped those feelings when they first began to creep inside him, but _how_ could he have done that? Sherlock was like a magnet, pulling people towards him in such a dazzling way that John thought he couldn't have stopped his feelings from developing any further no matter how hard he tried. He was emerged in Sherlock's world, and the man was such a part of him as his heart and lungs were. 

He was sure Sherlock held him dear to his heart; unlike many people thought, Sherlock was completely capable of emotion, even though he controlled them much better than anyone else. But it pained him to know that Sherlock didn't feel the same way about him.

If it was of any consolation, apparently the consulting detective didn't feel like that about anyone, and that made things bearable for John. Once you were resigned to being the eternal best-friend, it was actually a privilege to occupy such a place in Sherlock's little world. 

\-- Maybe we should give her some clothes, what do you think? - he asked Sherlock, trying to get any ideas out of that brilliant mind. 

\-- Can't we just go? I'm hoping there will be drinks and that they'll help me with the boredom.

\-- Absolutely not. We only have 40 minutes to buy something, let's hurry up.

\-- It is apparent that I'm not helping you in this matter at all - Sherlock said, sighing - I'm going to wait for you outside, on the street, where people don't keep bumping into me every 7.3 seconds.

\-- Really, Sherlock? - John said, and finally gave up. Maybe alone he could find something - Fine, but don't wander off - he said to his back, as he was already walking away.

John entered the store and a nice girl came to help him choose something for Molly. It was a nice, silk blouse with a pearly sheen to it. John didn’t see Molly very often out of the morgue, so he didn't really know what her favorite style was, but this blouse looked pretty enough. 

\-- What's her size? - the girl asked with a smile.

John had no idea. Sherlock would know, for sure, but where was he when you needed him the most?

\-- I'm not sure...medium size? - he said, tentatively. 

He left the store 10 minutes later with a nice package in his hand. The girl had assured him that Molly could change the blouse for a different size if she kept the tag on, so he wasn't very worried about it. It was easy enough to find Sherlock, already waving to a cab. 

\-- Any success? - he asked John as they sat in the back seat.

\-- I got her a blouse, let's hope she likes it - he said, showing the package. It was only then he noticed something was very different about Sherlock. 

\-- What is this smell? - he asked, fighting the urge to lean into Sherlock to make sure he was the source of that delicious smell that was starting to spread through the car. Sherlock took the collar of his coat in his hand and smelt it.

\-- There was a lady spraying this cologne on people walking by this store inside the shopping centre. I walked in front of her and she sprayed it on me without my consent. Rude approach to a customer, if I might add. 

God, it was an amazing smell.

\-- What was the name of the cologne?

\-- Why? Do you like it?

\-- It's nice - John admitted. 

\-- Something from the Jaguar line... Jaguar Prestige, if I remember correctly.

Of course he remembered correctly. John was amazed at how good Sherlock smelt. The detective never wore any cologne of any kind. They both shared the same shampoo, but Sherlock used his own soap and aftershave, and John loved the way he smelt just like that. He always smelt clean, as if he was fresh out of the shower. Not when he was on a case and spent a couple of days nowhere near a shower, of course, but generally, John loved the way he smelt.

Now this was a whole different level of smelling good. John had a thing for fragrances. He thought smells could bring back memories. John was oddly attracted to masculine fragrances, even though he had only engaged in sexual relationships with women, throughout his life. He liked the strong smell they had, and he himself owned a small collection of colognes. He had never found them attractive on other men. Well, except for Sherlock, now. He was always the exception. 

\-- We’re here – Sherlock said to him, as he was still sitting inside the cab while Sherlock was standing on the sidewalk in front of Molly’s building. John leaped out of the cab and followed Sherlock up the stairs. He caught whiffs of the cologne every now and then, and he took deep breaths to smell it better. God, it suited Sherlock so much!

It was the first time they were inside her apartment, and it somehow felt just right. It wasn’t a big place, but it was beautifully and delicately decorated, and was somewhat crowded with people at the moment.

\-- I’m so glad you could come! – Molly welcomed them at the door. She wore a nice, brown dress and her hair was done, just as her makeup. It was a nice change from the usual tied up hair and clean face. 

\-- Happy birthday, Molly – John said with a smile, hugging her – I know it’s only tomorrow, but still.

\-- Thank you, John.

She looked at Sherlock, who followed John’s cue and hugged her as well.

\-- We got you this – John handed the present, and Molly opened it cheerfully.

\-- Oh, it’s beautiful! – she said, taking the blouse in her hands – Thank you very much, boys. Look, Laura, isn’t it gorgeous? – she said, showing it to a friend of hers who was standing beside her. 

She walked them around the room, introducing them to her friends and some members of her family. Sherlock was behaving rather well, shaking hands and nodding in just the right circumstances. 

\-- Make yourselves at home, I’m going to walk around for a bit – she said, and went to a circle of people near them.

\-- Look, food is there – John said, walking them to a table with appetizers. Sherlock only poured himself a drink.

\-- You should eat – John said, concerned – You have barely eaten in the last couple of days.

\-- I’m fine – Sherlock said, observing people around them – Want to play the game? – he asked John, eagerly. John smile and nodded, taking a bite of the small tuna sandwich in his hand. 

\-- OK...that woman – Sherlock said, discreetly pointing to a very thin woman to their left. John leaned over to the side to have a better look at her, and accidentally touched Sherlock’s chest with his shoulder. That delicious smell invaded his senses once again. That woody base note was starting to fade, giving place to a warmer, sort of spicy fragrance, the heart of the cologne. 

\-- Well? – Sherlock asked, and it was only when his deep voice sounded just above John’s head that he realized how close he was actually standing. Sherlock didn’t seem to mind, but John stepped away immediately. 

\-- Ok…hum…let’s see – he mumbled, clearing his head. He watched the woman closely, trying to notice all the small details that Sherlock had instructed him to notice on several occasions. 

It was a game they often played; John would try to deduce things about random strangers, guided by Sherlock. The detective seemed to notice how hard he tried and was unusually patient when helping him. 

\-- I need a closer look – John said, walking in the direction of the woman. She was talking to another woman; a very pretty woman. John would normally try to start a conversation with her, but he had discovered it was impossible to do so when Sherlock was in the same room. He had no problem chatting up girls when he was by himself, but throw Sherlock into the equation and puff! He couldn’t do it. 

The truth was that he didn’t really want to chat them up in the first place. John wasn’t a man to deeply analyze his feelings, but it was clear that he always preferred Sherlock’s company than any other woman’s, and it showed. Damn it, it showed.

John made a small circle around them, paying attention to the woman he was supposed to be analyzing. He gathered all the data he could manage and went back to Sherlock.

\-- She used to be married – he said, and Sherlock gave him a small smile.

\-- And you know that because… - the detective encouraged him.

\-- I could see the mark her wedding ring made on her finger. 

\-- That’s it? Oh, come on, John. You can do better than that

John thought about it some more, observing her. 

\-- She is on a diet? – he asked doubtfully. 

\-- Why? – asked Sherlock with a small turn up of his lips.

\-- She’s only drinking orange juice and she’s been eyeing her friend’s drink and appetizer – John said, pondering.

\-- Very good, John.

\-- But… - John started, knowing Sherlock would surely have a witty comment for him.

\-- She really is on a diet, not only because of the choice of orange juice but also because of the seams around the waist of her dress – he said, and John’s eyes hovered over the woman’s waist but he couldn’t see anything unusual – She has clearly had the dress fitted because of her weight loss. Also, she’s interested in the woman she’s talking to.

\-- What? – John asked, his eyes searching for any indication.

\-- You see, she didn’t use to be married, she still is. She’s not interested in the woman’s food, she’s interested in her. Come on, John, it’s basic body language! I expected more from you, to be quite honest.

Now John saw it. As always, things became clear when Sherlock explained them, but he thought he was being unusually slow tonight. He blamed that damn cologne! It was clogging his thoughts.

\-- You’re not yourself tonight, John – Sherlock observed – Is something troubling you?

\-- I’m fine, just tired – he lied and grabbed some chips. He was sure Sherlock would know that he lied, but honestly, could he tell him the truth? ‘The real problem is that I’m starting to realize that I’m attracted to you and I’m having a particularly difficult time hiding it tonight’. Yes, that would turn out wonderfully. 

\-- That’s not it, you seem rather… - Sherlock started, but thankfully for John they were interrupted by the woman they first met when they arrived.

\-- Hello – she said with a smile, and John smiled back. Sherlock merely nodded. John knew how much he hated being interrupted – Do you know Molly from work?

\-- Yes, sort of – John answers – What about you? Laura, is it?

\-- Yes, my name is Laura – she says with a nice smile – We’ve known each other for ages. 

\-- That’s nice – John says, trying to get the woman to stay for as long as he can. He knows the second she leaves, Sherlock is going to question him again. In the meantime, the man is as silent and still as a rock. 

\-- How long have you been together? – Laura asks, and John blinks.

\-- Excuse me?

\-- You two – she points in his and Sherlock’s direction – How long have you been a couple?

Here we go again. John is about to open his mouth when he is surprised that Sherlock speaks before him.

\-- We’re not a couple, although that seems to be a common misunderstanding. 

\-- Oh – the woman looks embarrassed and puzzled – I thought that maybe, well, since you gave Molly that present together, and now you’re….well, I didn’t mean to offend or embarrass you.

\-- It’s fine – John answers, and the woman excuses herself and leaves. It was the first time Sherlock acknowledged that they weren’t a couple before John had to do it himself. Sherlock usually remained silent and let John make things clear.

 

\-- You were pretty quick to tell her we are not a couple – John said as he watched Sherlock pour himself another drink.

\-- Yes, well, you always seem bothered when people mistake us for a couple – Sherlock said and sipped his drink.

\-- Right – John said, feeling oddly hurt. It was true, John was usually bothered that people took them for what they were not, and he should be grateful that Sherlock had picked up on that. Sherlock was such an oblivious prick that it should be taken as a sign of affection, really. 

John felt like punching him in the face, though.

\-- Seriously, what is it with you tonight, John? – Sherlock asked, his patience running thin. 

\-- Nothing’s wrong, stop asking me what -- hey, what are you doing? – John said, startled, as Sherlock took his arm and dragged him to the small, empty balcony, closing the door behind themselves.

\-- Finally, some privacy – the detective says and lets go of John’s arm.

\-- It’s freezing out here – John comments, hugging himself. They had stripped off coat and jacket when they entered and the wind was cold.

\-- So it’s best if you tell me what’s on your mind faster, don’t you agree?

\-- I’m going inside – John says. He doesn’t want to do this, he doesn’t want to face it now. This was supposed to be a fun night and it had turned into an interrogation. Sometimes it was too easy to hate Sherlock’s ability to observe things. Or the lack of it. 

Sherlock takes him by his arm again. He can feel the heat in Sherlock’s palm seep through the thin fabric of the shirt he’s wearing. John’s hands are cold, but Sherlock’s always seem to be warm. 

\-- Talk to me, John – Sherlock insists, and John hates him for that. He can feel his anger building up inside him, and he can’t stop it now. His own feelings are confusing to him, he doesn’t want to think about them, doesn’t want to discuss them, not when he’s feeling so vulnerable and Sherlock is holding him in place. 

\-- You have the most brilliant mind the world’s ever seen, can’t you figure it out by yourself? – he snarls.

\-- I think I might have done just that – Sherlock confesses, and he seems somewhat vulnerable as well – but I don’t dare say it. I need to hear it from you.

\-- There’s nothing to hear from me – John says and swallows, looking down. He doesn’t want to see Sherlock’s face. There are lots of things he wants Sherlock to hear, but he’s too afraid to say them. He feels defeated, as if he had lost the fight without even trying. 

\-- John – Sherlock calls him, and that deep voice of his is gentle. John looks up at him. He can feel the detective’s hand still pressing hard on his arm, and he feels something else, too; Sherlock is pulling him closer – Tell me what’s on your mind, John.

He doesn’t say ‘please’, he never does that, but John can hear that word in his tone anyway, so he does what he’s asked. John tells Sherlock what’s on his mind in the best way he can think of. 

It’s a bit of an awkward angle, but John stands on his toes and touches Sherlock’s lips with his own. The detective’s lips are dry and cold; he lowers his head down and John can stand normally again. 

John is shocked at his own boldness, but he’s even more shocked when he feels Sherlock’s lips moving against his own. He knows for a fact that Sherlock hasn’t kissed anyone for at least a year, but he suspects it might have been longer than that. The thought that he was the one to kiss those lips after such a long time makes him dizzy.

It’s only after several seconds that he feels Sherlock’s hand move from his arm to his shoulder, and the other one to his waist. Only then he realizes that his own hands are hanging on the sides of his body, completely useless. He soon remedies that, placing one hand to Sherlock’s waist and the other one on the back of his neck. 

Sherlock makes a humming noise in his throat and John feels the tip of his tongue touching his lower lip, and he’s more than happy to comply with that silent request. He groans lowly when their tongues meet, feeling a little breathless already, but Sherlock is in a slightly worse condition, breathing quickly through his nose.

\-- I guess I was right about what you had in mind, after all – the tall man says, breaking the kiss. His voice is hoarse and his hands are touching John harder.

\-- You’re always annoyingly right – John says, and smiles back to Sherlock, who looks happier than John could ever remember. 

\-- I’m also beginning to understand why people think we’re a couple – he says, his face turning to the inside of the apartment, where some people are looking at them. 

John’s first instinct is to step away, but Sherlock keeps him in place.

\-- Does this bother you? The fact that we had an audience witness you kiss another man? – John asks, afraid of what the answer might be.

\-- Not in the slightest. I love having an audience, you know that – he smirks and John does it as well. 

\-- Was this because of the cologne? – Sherlock asks, curious, and John can feel the blood in his cheeks.

\-- Maybe. It kind of spiked up what I was already feeling.

\-- And you’ve been feeling like that for quite some time – Sherlock states. It isn’t a question, but John nods anyway. Sherlock understands more than he thought he did. He’s incredibly relieved that Sherlock didn’t push him away. He knows they have some serious talking to do, but he’s happy for now.

Sherlock looks at his watch and again he is dragging John by his arm.

\-- Come, John. We still have about 20 minutes.

\-- For what? 

\-- For the shopping centre to close. 

\-- The shopping centre?

\-- I have some shopping to do. There’s this cologne I would like to buy – he says with a smirk and John follows him without a word.

**Author's Note:**

> I have made no profits with the shameless advertisement of this cologne (Eau de Toilette, actually), I just thought it had a nice fragrance and I immediately pictured Sherlock when I first smelt it. Look for it if you have the chance ;)


End file.
